Just One Little Kiss?
by LadyTenebrion
Summary: Buffy Summers is a modelactress called in to shoot a commercial for a hotel strain to secure her contract with Dior. Little does she know that the chief manager of the Sleepeasy range is her High School enemy; William "Spike" Johnson, and that she has to
1. One

**Just One _Little _Kiss**

**:: CHAPTER ONE ::**

"Remind me again why I'm doing this, Pete." Spike said, sighing. His assistant stepped forward with a clipboard leading the way to the elevator that would take them to the sixth floor.

"Because you're a true friend?" He suggested. Spike rolled his eyes.

"An _actual_ reason, now." He growled in frustration, tucking his shirt into his trousers and straightening his tie.

"Because you're the youngest and best looking manager of _Cosy Comfort _chain of _Sleepeasy _hotels. Because you're at the forefront of the _Sleepeasy _advertising campaign. And, because he'll fire you if you don't!" Pete said, working up volume in his voice.

"Why else?" Spike asked, angrily.

Pete took a deep breath. "I don't see what the big problem is anyway. You do a fortnight's filming with a top model and make a load of cash, as well as boosting sales worldwide. Frankly, I'd jump at the chance to press my body against the model they've hired." He said, looking down at the clipboard in his arms.

"Bloody hell, Pete!" He said, crinkling up his nose. "How can you be so vain?" It was Pete's turn to roll his eyes.

"Not all of us have a British accent. Not all of us have an _apparently_ attractive body. And, not all of us have women begging to be in our beds!" He glared at his friend and boss.

"Did you notice that you always give me three reasons whenever I ask you a question?" Spike asked, a smirk curling on his lips. He dodged just in time to miss the clipboard from whacking him in the head. "Watch it, mate. I could fire you for that!" Pete glared at him, until he apologised. "Sorry. I forgot, I'm not supposed to mention the rank thing."

"Good boy." Pete said.

Spike ran his fingers through his hair before straightening his jacket again. "So, what's this model's name, anyway? Don't tell me; Ginger Hollybush, or Chantal Smoothlegs, or…um…" He trailed off, trying to think.

"Grow up, Spike." Pete snapped, "Her name is…"

"Summers!" Spike exclaimed as the lift stopped on the fourth floor, opened, and revealed Buffy's shocked eyes.

"William?" She replied in disbelief. They stood glaring at each other for a moment before the doors shut and the lift continued up.

FLASHBACK

Spike walked into class, late as usual and out of breath. Everyone stopped as the door slammed and looked up at him. "Hey, what'd I miss?" He asked. A few of the girls blushed slightly as he looked at them, his black and red combo giving him a mysterious edge.

It was Buffy who answered; "As per usual, _William_, you missed important schooling. We've been discussing the importance of dreams in _Of Mice And Men_."

He smiled. "Good." He said, before turning to leave.

"Er, Mr Johnson!" Called the teacher after him, but he'd already gone.

FLASHBACK

"_William_ Johnson is the Mr Johnson I'm going to meet?!" Buffy half exclaimed half shrieked as the elevator doors shut on his stunned face. She turned to her personal assistant with an angered expression on her face.

"You knew it from the beginning, Buffy." Marie brushed off, pressing the button for the next one.

"Er, no! No I didn't!" She argued.

"Er, yes, yes you did." Her friend mocked. "And you had no problem about it before."

"That was when I thought it was _Mr_ Johnson! Not _William_ Johnson!" She brought a hand to her head and closed her eyes to try and calm herself.

"What's your problem? He's hot and you get to curl up next to him in a bed, a sofa, a…" she flicked through some of the pages in her filofax, "…ooh! A Jacuzzi!"

Buffy forced her friend to close the filofax and look her in the eye.

"This is _William Johnson_." She said. "I.e. _Spike Johnson_. I.e. the guy who made High School a living hell for me and everyone else with half a mind to learn."

Marie's face lit up. "That was Spike!" She began to buzz. "The Spike you've said so much about!" She smiled and shook her head in disbelief. "Wow! He must have really filled out since High School…phwaah!"

"MARIE!" Buffy squealed, trying to get her attention. "I…can…not…do…this!" She said, in a desperate attempt to calm herself down. "Let's just walk away. We can do that, right? I've still got the deal with Dior."

"Na-ah," she shook her head, "the thing with Dior was dependent on this thing. You have to do it, Buffy, or you'll lose millions. Come on, it can't be that bad."

::

"Oh, yes it can!" Shouted Spike, before clamping a hand over his mouth to shut himself up. He took a deep breath. "That's the Summers who made my High School life a living hell!"

Pete raised his eyebrows. "That was _Buffy_ Summers?" Spike nodded. "Wow – she's a _lot_ hotter than you made out." Spike tilted his head and nodded for a moment before realising what he was saying.

"What? No!" He angered. "Come on, mate. Let's just forget this whole thing."

Pete put a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, listen. _You have to do this thing_." He spoke the words slowly and nodded whilst Spike shook his head. "It's worth your job."

_Read and Review!_


	2. Two

The Realm of Dreams Updates Links to Others Links to Me Contact Me Site Information The Realm of Reality 

**Just One _Little _ Kiss**

:: CHAPTER TWO ::

Buffy took a deep breath and stepped out onto the marble floor of the presidential suite. In her short pale-blue dress and catwalk heels, she emanated everything that was glamour and cool…inside, however, it was a different story. Anger and frustration swam beneath her calm exterior as she turned a corner and saw Spike talking with one of the cameramen by a small water feature the room had. She took another deep breath before walking towards him.

"Mr Johnson." She acknowledged, desperate to leave the situation.

"Miss Summers." Much as he would have liked, he could not stop his eyes from drifting down her body; she was a model, after all. He followed her smooth, creamy skin down to just below her neckline where the pale dress covered her breasts. Realising what he was doing, he brought his gaze to meet her cold eyes, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets to still the natural movement her presence had evoked. _ He still hated her, though._

She tried not to show it, but the truth was that his inscrutable intimacy had caused her body to react as any woman's would have when a handsome man perused them. She cleared her throat and folded her hands across her chest. The action was almost indistinguishable, but for the smile that appeared across Marie's face. Spike looked at her and smiled.

"William Johnson," he said, extending his arm to meet hers, "call me Spike, everyone does." A small glint appeared in Marie's eyes as she glanced to see her friend's reaction.

"Just call me Marie." She said smiling back. She switched hands to Pete who had just joined the conversation. "Marie." She added.

"Pete." He replied, summing up her body in a quick glance.

"BED SCENE, COMING UP!" A stagehand cut across them.

"You two better get off to bed, then." Pete said, grinning at Marie. "I'll take care of Marie." The two of them disappeared, leaving Buffy and Spike staring at each other.

"Miss Summers, this way please, into makeup. Mr Johnson, Petra Winters came in especially to do your hair and costume." The young girl smirked at him. "She feels she owed it to you after helping her through that rocky period with her ex." Spike smiled as he reminded himself. "You can go and get naked over there, sir!" The girl beamed, before leading Buffy away.

She was sat in front of a large mirror wearing a stylish negligee with two women fussing over her hair and makeup when Spike came into view from behind her. In the mirror, he looked completely naked. The suit he had been wearing before had modestly covered his firm body, but now his muscles were out for all to see. Buffy tensed in her chair as he looked at her. She felt her breath quicken as he bent down to her ear, watching her in the mirror.

"It's coming up." He said, softly, as a few of the female staff stopped to swoon over his appearance. She shot a nervous glance to where his groin would have been had she been able to see in the mirror, another to the cactus that stood erect upon the table. "The bed scene," he clarified, his brow furrowing at her nervousness. "Are you ready?"

She cleared her throat and stood up, turning to face him. He forced himself to hold her gaze and not to stare at the womanly curvature of her body against the thin silk. "Yes." She answered, plainly, raising her eyebrows as if nothing had shocked her.

"Spikey!" Called a young voice from the other end of the room. He turned to face where the noise had come from. Buffy used this time to glance down, but found herself not so much relieved as disappointed as she saw the boxer shorts around his hips.

"Leah!" He beamed as the little girl ran towards him. He picked her up and kissed her, before resting her on his hip. "Where's mummy?" He asked in his heavy British accent, looking round the room.

Buffy's eyes followed as the little girl pointed to an attractive young woman who leant against a drinks machine flirting with a chiselled man. "Over there, with daddy!" She didn't know why, but it relieved her to know that he was not the father.

"Excuse me," Spike said to Buffy, before carrying the girl over to them. He stood there for sometime talking before returning to where she stood, motionless, waiting. "Let's get into bed then!" He said, with a smile, rubbing his hands together. "Patrick!" He called. A large man with a beard and a beret emerged from a bathroom.

"Right!" He said, with an Australian accent. "Let's get started."

After some positioning, he finally settled on a starting position for the both of them. The advert was to start with the two asleep in bed, Spike behind Buffy, holding her close. They would wake up just as Leah would run in and jump on the bed. The idea for this scene was to give the illusion of a nice, happy family. In practice, all did not go well…

Spike's naked torso pressed against Buffy's skin. She couldn't help shivering slightly at the contact. He slid his free arm under hers, across her slender waist, securing her against him. His scent was intoxicating; she could barely breathe. He did little to ease the matter as he warm breath caressed her neck. She tried to calm her body's reaction; sure that he could feel every shiver, see the impact his proximity was already having across her chest. She could feel his smile boring into the back of her head as she was made to hold his other strong arm tight across her chest and rest her head upon it. She felt her body melting as his leg crossed over hers at the knee, fixing her ultimately against him. She prayed he could not feel her reaction.

Spike prayed she could not feel the tension rising within him. He tried to smile for the audience, but inside it was taking every effort in his body not to give into the urges that pulsed through him. Her body seemed to mould so comfortably against his. At first able to control himself, the crossing of their legs brought other matters into consideration.

He tried to pull himself as far away from her as possible, desperate that she would not feel him aching for her touch. She felt his withdrawal; sure that he was not feeling the same as her, that she had made no impact upon him.

"Ok, ready and…ACTION!" Patrick exploded, jolting them both back to reality. Immediately they closed their eyes, pretending to be asleep. Eons seemed to pass, before "Cut, cut, cut!" Patrick whined. "Where is Leah!"

The little girl bounded onto the set in a Spiderman costume she'd previously convinced him was a good idea to wear, and tugged at his trousers. "Rargh!" She said, in what came out as the cutest voice imaginable, instead of a scary monster. His face softened immediately; she seemed to have that effect on most people.

"Alright! FROM THE TOP, PEOPLE! And, ACTION!" He bellowed, having moved back into position. His blood cooled by the young child's presence, he pressed himself closer to Buffy, enjoying the feel of her whilst she was still there.

There was a long wait.

"Leah? LEAH!" Bellowed Patrick, again. The young Spiderman emerged from underneath a table with a pink iced-bun; most of the icing across her face. "Oh, for the love of –, Michelle, please just clean up your child, and try to impress upon her the severity of the situation." He sighed. "Everyone, you've got a five minute break. You two, stay there!" He added, before turning on his heel, leaving.

Spike pushed himself up, using his elbow, before turning to look at who remained. The room seemed derelict. It was times like those that he cursed his idea to put four rooms in each suite!

He lay back down, the heat in him rising again, the blood pumping more ferociously than before.

"They've all gone." He didn't know why, but he felt the need to whisper it.

Buffy turned a little to look up at him, their faces almost touching. "Should we just wait here." Her voice sounded suddenly husky.

His eyes met hers; both filled with desire…no longer annoyance or indifference. "That's what Patrick said."

A blush rose in her cheeks, she could feel her heart beating wildly, though could not explain it. _This was William Johnson_, she told herself, _the troublemaker. The one who paid some kid to blow up the toilets just so he could miss a pop quiz. The one who thought she was a bossy know-it-all. The one in the hot leather jacket._ The word mysterious hung in her head; she couldn't get it out. Her mind was swimming. She couldn't think straight; not with his lips hovering like that just above hers. They were fascinating to her; it was against everything she'd ever believed in, but she wanted to taste them.

Spike looked down. She was twisted slightly in his arms to look back at him; her body so deliciously curved. His eyes fell upon the shaky rise and fall of her chest, and upon the hard nipples that protruded through the negligee. He wanted to touch her, feel her react to the heat of him, the weight of him. Forcing his eyes higher, he stopped at her lips. They were slightly parted, as if waiting for him to take them.

His body tautened as he leaned in closer, pressing his body down harder against hers. He lay his hands firmly on either side of her. His lips brushed over hers, his tongue forcing them to open wider. His breath gently caressed the soft, pink flesh until she groaned a little, pushing herself up towards him.

Sure of her hunger for him, he increased the pressure of his mouth, forcing her back onto the satin pillows. He hadn't intended for more, but the contact was so heavy that he lingered, increasing the pressure. Her lips parted beneath him, and his tongue delved inside as he tasted her hot, powerful, intoxicating sweetness.

He pressed himself more roughly against her. She made no protest, reaching her fingers into his hair as he straddled her properly. She pushed her body up towards him, desperate to feel the contact. Her breasts moved against his chest as she touched her tongue to his. Mindlessly, he plunged deeper, as a hand slid down to her waist; impatient, wanting. Blood sang in his ears, blocking all else out. All the time, his thighs trembled with aching want such as he had never known, as he bit back a groan.

Buffy shook at the force of him. She revelled in the feel of his firm body hard against her. His knee pushed between her thighs, making her gasp in a frantic, hot delight, as his hardness pressed against her. He grunted at the feel of her, warm and welcoming. She shuddered, forcefully, as the palm of his hand closed around her breast, caressing it, his thumb stroking her nipple into a hard peak. She gasped again as a bright, hot sensation leapt through her.

Suddenly, he froze. Dizzied by sensation, it took her some time to realise why.

"I SAID: EVERYONE, BACK TO WORK!" Shouted Patrick from another room.

Buffy's mist filled eyes swung open to meet Spike's staring back down. He swore, rolled off her and rubbed his hands across his face quickly, before sitting back up. She blinked a few times before joining him. Her kiss-swollen mouth still fresh with the taste of him.

::

Chapter Three

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	3. Three

**Just One _Little _Kiss**

**:: CHAPTER THREE ::**

Patrick walked back into the room to find Spike sat up in the bed with a book half open, reading, and Buffy asleep on her side, facing the other way. "What the heck happened?" He asked, angered that he'd just got the girl clean, and now one of the actors was asleep.

"Shh!" Whispered Spike, holding a finger to his mouth. "You know what they say about models – never eat, never sleep. Why don't we go and shoot the scene in the bathroom with the dad and the kid brushing her teeth, eh, mate?"

A moment later they were gone, and Buffy opened her eyes, hearing the door softly close. It had worked like a charm! She sat up and looked around. Without other people their to fill it, the room seemed much more formal. The strong, wooden furniture, unobtrusive art, and the cream and brown colours all added together to make the room strong and empowering.

What had just happened? She had just let a man she hardly knew, (and hardly liked!) kiss her and touch her. How could she do that? She tried to focus her mind on anger, but her heart kept racing as she thought of him pressed against her, the weight of his body, the taste of his skin…

FLASHBACK

Buffy had to admit it; she was lost. She didn't know how, but a series of wrong turns had led her finally to a dark corner of the town that she previously hadn't known existed. A door banged shut from a large warehouse, not too far away. No streetlamps made it harder for her to realise where she was.

She realised she shouldn't be there, and turned back, pulling her coat tighter around her for comfort. Her steps weren't the only ones she heard. She quickened her pace, desperate to avoid confrontation; so unlike her in the day, but this was the night and the rules had changed. Whoever was following her, sped up too.

Her heart pounded within her ribcage, fear gripped her, desperate to paralyse her muscles, but always just out of reach. She began to run and fumbled in her bag for her keys, anything that she could use to protect herself. She could feel it, if only she could reach it. Just…a…little…bit…lower…

She turned, pulling her house key out and holding it between her fingers, but no one was there. She let out a sigh of relief before turning, bumping into someone's chest.

"Argh!" She cried, before looking up to see Spike. He stared back and raised an eyebrow, before looking out across the darkness. He fitted in so well with the night; his black and blood red clothes disappearing into the air.

As if sensing her fear, he spoke loudly; "I'll give you a ride back to your house." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He stood for a moment, before turning, putting a commanding arm around her and leading her away.

::

Buffy awoke to find it night time; no light fell through the curtains. She didn't know how long she had slept, but a memory kept playing in her mind. Her heart was racing from reliving it in her dream, and her body felt the glow of perspiration to her skin.

She pulled back the covers and stepped out of the bed, rubbing her hands across her face. Wrapping herself up in the bed's throw, she yawned and stretched out. A noise from behind the bedroom door froze her limbs. She held her breath to listen, but, realising it was the TV, forced herself to blink and open the door.

Spike was asleep on the sofa in front of the screen. He lay in scruffy jeans and a black t-shirt with Leah asleep on top of him, still in her Spiderman costume. He looked so peaceful; not like the moody teenager she remembered from high school, nor like the cool, organised businessman she'd seen earlier. Just peaceful.

She walked over to them and turned the TV off, before covering them with the throw she'd brought and returning back to the room to lie down.

FLASHBACK

Buffy was sat up straight in the lunchroom, waiting for Spike to arrive. Lunch was about the one part of the day he always turned up for. The hall doors pushed open as he walked in, his arm around his Goth-girlfriend. She didn't know why, but she hadn't expected it today.

She caught his eye as, holding a sandwich in one hand, he stopped in the lunch-line and, with one arm around her neck and the other at her waist, he began bite and suck at her neck. His dark eyes flashed something at her for a moment, before seemingly looking straight through her.

Nothing had changed.

::

Spike barely acknowledged her entrance as she emerged from the bedroom the next morning to find the suite teeming with life again. He had changed again, back to his suit, and was busy talking with Pete. God, he looked gorgeous in that suit! It roughly hinted at the man beneath, the man she'd felt pressed against her. Buffy considered going to join them, but both their expressions seemed serious and severe.

"Christ, man! I thought you were Mr Smooth, but…heck!" Pete said, his eyes wide with surprise. Spike blinked, again, and brushed his hair back.

"What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?"

Pete raised his eyebrows and nodded. "You've got yourself a problem there, mate."

"Oh, for fu--" He began to shout, but was cut short by Patrick's shouts.

"PREPARE FOR THE SOFA SCENE! FIVE MINUTES, TOPS!"

"What am I going to do?" He spat out in a whisper. Pete continued to nod. "Stop NODDING!" Pete glared at him. "Sorry, man."

"You're just going to have to focus on something completely non-sexual. Picture her with…hey, look!" He said, pointing at Buffy who had cream all over her face from a large cake that Leah was making her eat. "There you go, problem sorted." He dusted his hands.

"No!" His friend whined, "Not sorted. Now, I want to lick it off, taste her lips, her tongue, her body…" Spike closed his eyes and bit his lip, suppressing his natural risings.

"Really?" Pete asked, looking at Buffy and then back at Spike. "Bizarre." He dismissed. "I've got to go – I'm meeting Marie at the Deli across the street in twenty minutes and need time to swing by the florist's." He checked his watch and passed the clipboard to Spike.

"Look at you, _Casanova_!" Spike, mocked.

"Spike, mate, I'm flattered. But I'm afraid I don't swing that way. In fact, there appears to be only one way that I do, and that's towards Miss Marie Murie. Gotta go! Remember, _non-sexual thoughts_." And with that, he was gone.

Spike stood there for a moment, before clearing his throat and picking the two cans of coke he was supposed to bring in on the next scene.

Buffy looked up at him from her new costume; a pale blue summer dress, modestly cut. He looked so calm and composed. She watched him for a moment, before tucking her hair behind her ears and holding Leah's hand, walking over to the sofa.

"We're ready, Patrick." She said, trying to keep her voice from sounding nervous. He looked at her for a moment before calling Spike and the others to get ready.

Action was called, and Spike stepped into frame, carrying the two cans, passing one to Buffy. He sat next to her and Leah crawled all over him. The whole time, he didn't look at Buffy, and didn't smile. His eyes seemed cold to her, distant, regretful.

"Spike – you need to show some emotion. That's your kid!" Patrick cried from behind a camera.

Leah lifted her head, her faced screwed up in thought. "He's not my daddy." She said, indignantly.

"Yes, I know sweetheart, but for the advert we need you to pretend he is." Patrick said, softly, cautious to start a fire.

The young girl tilted her head to one side and thought in silence for a moment before responding. "Pretend?"

"Yes, sweetheart…"

"You mean _lie_?" She asked, but before he had a chance to reply, she continued. "Lying is a bad thing to do. I wont do it." She folded her arms and sat in a sulked position.

Patrick bit his tongue and took a deep breath. "Spike, will you have a word with her?" Spike looked at her for a moment before complying.

"You see, pet, sometimes lying is alright. Not all the time, but it's alright now." He could see her thinking. "Will you lie with us?"

She looked at him in earnest before a huge smile broke out across her face. "Yes." She said, cheerily.

"Really, that's great!" Patrick said, shifting back in his chair, ready to continue shooting.

"I like lying." She said, jumping off his lap and disappearing under a table.

Spike couldn't help grinning at her. He blinked and shook his head. "Patrick, when you've got her, come and get me. I'll be in my office." He added, standing up and leaving the room. Buffy watched him. He didn't once turn to look at her. She snapped her eyes shut and turned her head in a different direction. She couldn't believe she was watching the way he walked!

::


	4. Four

**Just One _Little _Kiss**

:: CHAPTER FOUR ::

Buffy's room in the hotel had two double beds, separated by a bedside table. She sat cross-legged on one, facing Marie on the second. Her eyes were wide open, as was her mouth.

"Say something!" Marie shrieked.

Buffy cleared her throat and tried to calm herself. "Well," she said, in little more than a hoarse whisper, "that was very, um, graphic?"

"Yes, well, I just wanted you to know." Marie flopped back onto her bed and lay watching the ceiling, both hands lying restlessly upon her stomach. "I mean, I don't usually do that on a first date, but his tongue felt so good on some parts that I thought it would feel nice on others."

Buffy nodded, her eyes almost popping out of her head. "I see…"

"At first I thought he was being coy, and then I thought he was being boring, and then I thought he was just timid, but then," she said, sitting up, a huge smile appearing across her face, "as I was ordering my sandwich, I felt his hand on my--"

"You've already told me that part!" Buffy said, putting her hand flat out in front of her before turning and lying back onto her pillows.

"You know, it's usually not that way," Marie continued, "if they're any good to talk to then they're not good for anything else! But he was so I figured I might as well have a little fun while were still here." She let out a long breath and sighed. "So, what was _Spike_ like?" She asked, her mind suddenly filling with the image she remembered of the half-naked man with the gorgeous chest and muscles.

"We didn't do anything!" Buffy let out, too quickly to be believably.

"Oh my god!" Marie shrieked, running over and joining Buffy on her bed, "What happened? And I want _all_ the gory details!" Buffy couldn't help laughing at her friend's excitement.

"Whoa! Calm down, there, Fido! Nothing happened. At least not today. And not any other day. Ever. _Never_." She added, as if her friend couldn't hear her, and in truth she wasn't trying.

"So he kissed you." She pulled together, simply.

"What? No! We--"

"Kissed and a little more? But not enough to validate a call home over. And this was yesterday, and you haven't told me about it before, and you're still hot for him." She spoke in a very businesslike fashion, as if this was entirely normal. Buffy began to object but she ignored her. "I can see by the blush in your cheeks. Anyway, why shouldn't you want to do him? Heck, I would were it not that I've got my hands full with _Pete_!" She sighed and flopped down on the bed next to her.

"Besotted?"

"Not bored or shagged out so…maybe." She cleared some hair out of her face. "And Spike?" Buffy felt goose pimples rising over her body at the name.

"Nothing but another actor. He hasn't touched me and I haven't touched him." Marie lays silent, waiting for more. She knew Buffy well, and how long it took to get a revelation! They both stared at the ceiling for a moment before Buffy spoke. "I don't know why, but I keep remembering High School. You know? All the times that I remember him showing up and ruining one of our exams or-or making me laugh, or-or," she paused for a moment and thought, "or the time that he rescued me from something."

Marie started at the beginning. "How did he ruin an exam?" She said, as if it was a big deal.

"He walked in half way through and, moments later, got sent out for etching _'The Principal Sucks Donkey Di'_ into one of the desks. And then he set the fire alarm of." Marie grinned. Buffy smiled as she reminisced. "There was this time where he knocked out one of our professors because he was shouting at me." Marie raised her eyebrows. Buffy sensed the changed in mood.

"Sounds like he hated you." She mocked, gently.

"I didn't mean it like that. The professor was shouting at him, then I corrected something he said, then he started shouting at me. So, Spike intervened. It's not what you think."

"Of course not." Marie shook her head. "What was I thinking?!"

FLASHBACK

Spike walked into the lesson, late as usual. He slumped into one of the back chairs and stared out of the window.

"Mr Johnson, would you like to explain to us all what you're doing?" Spike turned his head to glared at the man who had dared disrupt his thoughts. Buffy turned in her seat to look at him. He glanced at her for a second before turning back to the professor.

"You may proceed, mon amis." He said, staring straight out of the window again. A few of the class started to snigger.

The professor looked as if he was about to turn purple. "How dare you!" He bellowed. "I am one of the most respected members of the faculty at this school. You will answer my question."

"I thought I just did." Spike said, spitting his gum out and standing up.

"That's it! Go to the Principal's office, now!" Spike shrugged and headed for the door. "And next time don't bother coming in if you plan to disrupt us during Dickens!"

Buffy raised her hand, tentatively, and spoke. "Er, sir! It's Tolstoy."

If he had been angry before, he looked mad now and as if his head was about to pop off. Spike stopped and smiled. Buffy shook in her seat. She couldn't believe she'd just made such a stupid mistake as to interrupt him!

"What bloody difference does it make, girl? Do you question my authority?" He bellowed, spitting down at her as he breathed his words.

"N-no, sir!" She replied, timidly. "I-I just--" She began, and wished she hadn't. He loomed over her and began sending all manor of offence her way.

"You stupid girl!" He spat, raising his hand as if he were about to strike her.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Shouted Spike stepping forward. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He grabbed the man's hand mid swing and pushed him back. A few people clapped.

"Look here, sonny," the professor began, reaching forward and grabbing a hold of his jacket.

Spike pushed him off, making him topple onto someone else's desk. "Fuck you, man," he growled, punching him to the ground, "and I'm not your sonny." Everyone stood up and stared at the unconscious man lying on the floor. Spike wagged his hand in the air. "Christ, that hurt." He said, clenching and relaxing a fist.

Buffy had a hand held over her mouth as he walked over to her, still sat. She stared at him, wide eyed in shock.

"You alright?" He asked, his face serious.

"You're going to be expelled!" She gaped at him. "You've just hit a teacher! Why would you do that?"

"Wasn't he trying to hit you just a minute ago?" He asked, shaking his head at her reaction. "Look, anyway, the way I see it is you distracted him from his anger at me and I did the same for you. We're even."

"What about the alley?" She asked, remembering that night.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes searching his expression. She felt hot, choked. Had he forgotten about that? He stepped back and clapped his hands together to get the room's attention. "Way I see it was he was trying to hit a student and fell down. I never came in today."

He left the classroom, angry.

::

"Wow!" Said Marie, swooning. "I thought you said he was a bad person?"

"He was. What? Do you not think that punching a professor was a bad thing to do?"

"In this case, no. I think it was a good thing to do. Anyway, you haven't actually told me what happened in the alley."

"Nothing really. I got spooked, thought something was after me, screamed, and Spike was there. He took me home."

"Was he expelled for hitting that guy?"

"He was expelled several times, but never stayed out." She laughed. "It was as if he wanted to go to school! He kept diving out of expulsion somehow." Marie smiled.

"I'd do him." She said, simply. Buffy's jaw dropped. "But obviously not now that you like him." She said, patting her on her shoulder.

There was a knock at the door.

"Shit!" Said Marie, jumping up. "What time is it?" She looked around, searching for a clock.

Buffy sat up and looked at her watch. "It's eleven-thirty, why? What's going on?" She turned her head towards the door. "Did you invite Pete here?"

"No!" Exclaimed Marie, jumping up and grabbing her shoes. "But I'm meant to be at his by now!" She pushed open the joining door to her room, before turning back to Buffy. "Gotta go, love ya!" She kissed her on the cheek and ran out.

"Wait, Marie!" Buffy called, standing up. "What if it's him at the door?" But Marie was gone.

Buffy stood up and pulled her dressing gown about her, walking towards her bedroom's door. Pulling it open, she stared mindlessly at the man who stood there.

::

Spike had been pacing his office all day. He had cast aside his jacket, shoes and tie, and been unable to concentrate on any of the work he had to do. Pete had met him at six and gloated about the time he had had and the food he had eaten. "Bugger off, mate." He had growled. He was starving, and not just for food. Every word anyone uttered to him only seemed to aggravate him more.

It was eleven before he decided what he was going to do, what he needed. As soon as he had cleared it in his mind, he nearly kicked his door down, before running down the flights of stairs to her room.

There were a million reasons not to do it, but for each of those, his body had stuck two fingers up at.

::

"Spike!" Buffy exclaimed, finally, when she was able to talk. He stood there for a while, not looking at her, simply looking down and pacing the short area in front of her door. "I-I, er, mean Mr Johnson."

He stopped pacing and looked up at her. It was too much to take in. Her golden hair tumbled dreamily across her shoulder and down to her breasts. He remembered the feel of them. Despite her wearing a baggy shirt and dressing gown, she was still too much to take in.

"Fuck it!" He shouted, charging towards her, pressing his lips against hers, a hand at her neck, another at her hip, securing her against him. He was already hard as he pushed her against the wall, shutting her door with his foot, their mouths still hot and linked.

Her body softened, her senses heightened. She became completely aware of every sensation his exploring hands sent shaking through her body. Her mind blurred as he brought his lips to her neck and lightly nipped the sensitive skin behind her ear.

In a matter of moments he had removed her dressing gown, and his hands had already begun working on the buttons of her shirt. Her hands clung to his back as he edged her legs apart with his knee. He tore the last few buttons of her shirt as he ripped the two sides apart and pulled it off her, revealing her naked body, ready, waiting.

He rolled his hands down her smooth body before cupping her butt and lifting her, carrying her to the nearest bed. He lay her down, coming down on top of her, bringing his lips to her mouth again, waiting for her to match his eagerness with her own. Her hands began to unbutton his shirt as his tongue cascaded over hers, sending shivers up and down her spine.

She couldn't believe what she was doing. This was William Johnson, Spike Johnson. She couldn't believe what she was doing…and she didn't care.

::


	5. Five

**Just One _Little _Kiss**

**:: CHAPTER FIVE ::**

Spike easily removed his trousers whilst Buffy worked on his shirt, pulling it away from him, revealing his strong, broad chest rippled with taut muscles. He brought his mouth back to hers making her moan as his hands slid down her body. She pressed her fingers against his chest before smoothing them over his back, down to his hips where she met the only remaining piece of clothing standing between them and ecstasy.

He moved his mouth away from hers, spiralling his tongue down her neck and to her breasts, all the time building up a rocking motion between them, working her into a frenzy. He circled one breast with his mouth before suckling gently at the soft berry atop it, his hand moulding the other before his lips became free. Buffy moaned and brought her hand to her mouth, clamping her teeth down on one finger as he worked his way lower, past her navel.

He lay gentle kisses over the soft curls that lay at the apex of her legs, before moving to her knees and trailing his tongue up the insides of her thighs. His hot mouth pressed against the wet folds of her skin, his lips gentle at first as she writhed beneath him, her eyes squeezed shut as she began to tremble, overcome by sensation. He increased the pressure, before allowing his tongue to delve in and taste the sweetness at her core. She couldn't help thrusting herself at his mouth as he anchored her against him, holding her by her hips, his thumb rubbing against her. She wrapped her legs around his back, any thought of propriety lost.

Finally, she tensed, her whole body overpowered as she came hard before falling back away from him. He stayed there for a while, lapping up his effect on her.

She reached down and pulled at his shoulders, tugging him up to meet her. His mouth met hers, eagerly, his body pained by the now too-tight boxer shorts. Still feeling the after effects of his mouth, she trailed a soft hand down his back, tugging at the waistband that strapped him back. He helped her pull them off, before returning his mouth to hers, pressing down with the eagerness inside him to be inside her.

He pressed himself against her and, for the first time, she felt the full extent of his arousal. Her eyes shot open. "Buffy," his breath ragged, he pulled back and looked down at her glowing face, "tell me you want this." It was taking every bit of self-control in his body not to bury himself in her.

Her vision was blurry as she tried to focus on his face. "What?" She whispered, breathlessly.

"Tell me you want this." He repeated, his mind racing, his body aching to feel more as his chest brushed against her breasts, his hard body pressed tautly against hers. "Tell me you want me."

"Yes!" She cried, hoarsely. "Yes, Spike! I want this!" She brushed her hands down the base of his spine. "I want you!"

Her breath caught in her throat as, with one thrust, he was inside her. His mouth pressed hotly against hers as he brought her hands above her head, pinning them there with his own as he plunged deeper inside her, rocking her. She closed her eyes and rocked with him, feeling the building pressure inside. His mouth left hers, and lowered to her neck, causing the sensations within her to skyrocket.

Her body tensed and he released her hands. She immediately brought them to his back, pulling him tightly against her as she came, making he come with her. She cried out his name as he let out a long groan, burying his face in her neck.

They rested there for a while, both consumed by sensation, before Spike rolled out and off her. He turned his face to look at her. She looked amazing; her breath fast, causing her chest to rise a fall exotically. Her hair was spread around about her, and her body was glistening with perspiration and emotion.

"You're so beautiful, Buffy." He said, reaching out and trailing his hand across her body. He smiled at the way she trembled under his touch, despite her exhaustion. When his hand reached her navel it was met by hers. Her eyes shot open and looked at him.

"Don't." She whispered, still hoarse. He rolled onto one side and pulled her against him.

"See how much I want you?" He purred into her ear, already hard for her once more. She felt him against her thigh and groaned, her head rolling back.

"Don't you get tired?" She replied. Closing her eyes and leaning into the contact.

He laughed lightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Alright, pet." He smiled. "Sleep." He crawled down to the bottom of the bed and pulled the sheets up, covering them both, before turning off the light. He lifted his leg, covering hers with his, and pulled her up against him. "Tomorrow," he whispered, feeling her nuzzle closer, "I'll move you to a double."

::

Buffy opened her eyes, lazily. She smiled as she felt Spike's firm body pressed against her. She had no idea he would have stayed with her all night, but she was grateful. She didn't know why, but she was. It made it seem just like, in that morning sun, he was there because he liked her and not just her body.

Marie cleared her throat causing both Buffy and Spike to jump up, Buffy pulling the sheet around her, Spike letting it fall to his hips. He looked vaguely in the direction of the noise, his eyes still sleepy. Buffy glared at her friend, and then her eyes shot to the figure standing next to her, Pete. They both looked decidedly severe.

Marie tapped her foot on the carpet and folded her arms. "Good morning." She said, sharply.

Spike rubbed his eyes and looked at them both for a moment before nodding, looping an arm around Buffy's waist and lying back down.

"Spike, wake up." Pete said, glaring at his friend.

Spike shook his head. "Fuck off, mate, it's too early."

"It's eleven-thirty."

"Oh my god!" Buffy started, looking at the clock at her bedside.

"Shit!" Said Spike, joining her. "I was having a good dream, Pete." He gave Buffy a little squeeze on her hip. "Why d'you wake me?" He sat up and rubbed his eyes again.

"Oh my god is right, Buffy!" Marie glared. "We've been waiting here for sometime, and I must say, didn't expect to find you both like this."

"I woke you, Spike, because you were supposed to be filming from nine, unless this is part of your _'rehearsal'_!" Spike glared at him.

"You shouldn't have come here." Spike said, still sleepily, frowning at his friend. "I don't interrupt you, unannounced."

"You don't work for me. It's not your job to ensure everything runs smoothly for me." Pete angered. "Now," he began again, just as Marie stood up, "I suggest you both get up and get dressed and go upstairs to work. Meanwhile, Marie and I have some other business to attend to. And we both expect a bonus." A few moments later a door slammed shut, coinciding with Spike laying back down.

"Oh my god!" Buffy let out again.

"Calm down, pet. I'll make up something to Patrick, just relax and lie down." Spike eased her back down onto the single bed. "Christ, we must have been tired!" He said, pulling her backwards against him, resting his head on her shoulder. He placed an arm around her, securing him against her, his hand cupping her breast. The warmth of it made her close her eyes as her body started to react.

"No, Mr Johnson, we should get up and get dressed. I'm a professional." She tried to pull away but he held her closer, still.

"Why did you do that?" He breathed into her ear; his warm breath making her want to drop all defences and turn. "Hmmn? Why wont you call me Spike? You did last night. Or don't you remember?" His voice was hypnotising as one hand gently massaged her breasts, the other brushing gently down her stomach. "Need some reminding?" He asked.

She shivered as his hands slid under the womanly folds of her skin, guarded by dark curls. Gently he pressed against her in a slow rhythmic action, waiting for her to give in to him. Her mouth opened and let out a small gasp as he delved inside the moist cocoon of her and softly swayed her.

"You like that, do you?" He asked, turning her in his arms so that she was flat on her back. She was in agony; pleasurably agony. Was that even possible?

"Uh-huh!" She moaned, as he brought his mouth down across her body, increasing the pressure of his hand as her hips pushed up to meet him. It wasn't long before she came again. She felt completely revitalised as she sat up, above him, and sucked the wetness from his fingers, all embarrassment at their predicament lost.

He watched her with pleasure as she straddled him, her eyes flashing desire. She could feel him hard, pulsing beneath her and reached a hand around his shaft. She felt him shake at the contact and pushed him further back onto the pillows, before moving herself closer to him.

There was a drop of wetness at the end of him and, using her thumb, Buffy gently smoothed it over him. Spike twitched under her touch. She lowered her head, trailing her tongue the full length of him, before circling the tip in her mouth.

"Jesus, Buffy!" He cried. "I thought you were a good girl!" He looked down at her as she grinned at him before closing her hand around him, pumping. With her other hand, she trailed a finger inside his leg, gently teasing the soft flesh at the top. Her tongue placed light, hot kisses across his muscular stomach and down again. His already tense body tensed further. "Shit, Buffy!" He said, jumping out of her grasp.

"What? What is it?" She asked, looking at him, confused.

"I need to be inside you now!" He said, the sense of urgency in his voice barely sustained. He practically lifted her up, as he raised her to the top of the bed and easily entered her. As he dove deeper and deeper into her, she bit into his shoulder tersely, before guiding her tongue over his chest, circling his nipples the same way he had with her. "Oh, Buffy!" He cried as he brought them both to release, her nails digging into his back.

::

Spike awoke. The absence of Buffy in his arms had jolted him back to reality. He looked around and saw her sifting through her suitcase. She was dressed only in a towel, and he could hear the shower falling.

"What's going on?" He asked, propping his head up on one hand.

"I'm just going to have a shower and get dressed." She said, simply, turning her head to look at him. His naked form was fully visible both above and below the sheets. She felt mischievous and couldn't help it. "Care to join me?"

He raised his eyebrows at her request.

"Of course, you don't have to." She added, watching his reaction.

Her eyes bulged as he stepped out of the bed and, for the first time, she properly took in his form in its entirety. "I was never one to turn down a lady in need." She tilted her head as she saw how 'valiant' he was.

"A noble knight indeed! And that, I suppose, is your steed!" She giggled, standing up and pulling out the shampoo and shower gel from her bag.

"Come, let me show you how to ride it!"

::


	6. Six

**Just One _Little _Kiss**

:: CHAPTER SIX ::

Buffy couldn't believe what she'd done. She stood on the balcony of her room, looking out across the night-time city. She was leaning on the railing in her dressing gown.

She must have been possessed! Spike must have been possessed! For no other reason would they have leapt at each other like that, clawed at each other, found peace with each other… Buffy let out a sigh and buried her face in her hands. What had she been thinking? After they had both finally showered, and a little later, come to think of it, Spike had convinced Patrick that they'd been caught in traffic, and him further detained by work. Luckily, he had bought it, and agreed to do some night shooting.

"Why aren't you up there filming?" Marie's voice invaded Buffy's quiet solace. "Spike and Pete have been up there for over an hour."

Buffy turned her head a little as she joined her on the balcony. "Spike told me get some sleep." Marie raised her eyebrows. "No, he didn't order me," Buffy urged, reading her friend's reaction, "I went of my own accord. He just suggested that I should sleep and just start filming as usual, tomorrow."

"What about what you wanted?"

"That was what I wanted!" Frustrated Buffy. She brushed her hair behind her ears. "Why is this an issue! Look, what do you want, Marie?" She glared across at her friend, who seemed to be eying her with a slight smile on her face. Suddenly, her face bloomed happily.

"You like him, don't you!" She grinned, humming at Buffy's angry visage.

"What? No—I…"

"Yeah, whatever, sure. That's why you're blushing." She folded her arms. "You do…and, um," she was trying to read Buffy's face, and succeeding, "now think that he doesn't like you, because he sent you to bed, but what were you supposed to do, so you just went…"

Buffy closed her eyes, droning sarcastically. "You need to stop doing that, Marie."

"So, I'm right!" She grinned. "Let's go inside." She ushered her into the room, and sat her down on her bed, before moving across to the other and sitting atop it too. "So, first you hated him, but he saved you on numerous occasions, and now you've shagged you like him decidedly more, but you think he doesn't like you. Am I right?"

Buffy thought about rebutting, but instead sighed and feebly answered; "Yes."

"Bummer." Marie agreed, nodding her head before lying back to stare at the ceiling. "You know, Pete said the funniest thing today about rye bread. You see, we were in this bakers not too far from here and—"

"Marie!" Buffy breathed, incredulously. "I'm glad you've found a guy you actually like to shag and like to like, but please, can you just help me for a moment without telling me another fifty uses for everyday purpose items from the kitchen in the bedroom?" Marie peered up to see her before laying back down.

"Funnily enough, it was actually a joke about rye bread, and not what your perverted mind thinks." She began to tap her fingers on her stomach. "What exactly do you need help with? Pete says Spike likes you. And as far as I know, you like him, you've both just shagged, and--"

"Spike likes me?" Buffy asked, tilting her head to one side, her eyes wide open, interested in what her friend had to say. "Did he say that? Did you hear him say that?"

Marie giggled and raised her eyebrows. "Oh Buffy!" She rolled onto her side and grinned mischievously at her. "First of all, tell me how much you like him."

Buffy blinked for a moment before responding. "Um, a bit?" She tried, hopefully, but Marie just continued to stare at her. "Alright, a little more than a bit." She blushed, before her face went sullen. "Is that right? I mean, we used to be sworn enemies, practically, and now we've made love, or had sex, I mean, I don't know what I'm supposed to call it… Marie?" She looked to her friend for help.

"You need to stop babbling. 'Credibly annoying." She leaned over and patted Buffy on the knee. "I'd just get some sleep if I were you. Big day ahead of you tomorrow, and--"

"But I don't want to sleep!" Screamed Leah at the top of her lungs. "Why do I have to go home! I want to stay with Spikey!" Her face scrunched up in a sulk.

Spike looked at her and rubbed his temple. "You know what, she can if she wants." He let out in a breath. "Seriously, Shelly, I don't mind." He looked at her, wearily. His sister nodded and made her goodbyes to the restless child, who sat on Spike's bed, looking very pleased with herself.

"Spikey, Spikey, Spikey…" She trailed off, before yawning loudly. "Na-night!" She whispered through drowsy eyes before flopping back onto the pillows.

"Ooh, you cheaky little thing!" Spike taunted, running around the bed and tickling her. "You get the bed while I'm supposed to kip on the floor?" She giggled as he lifted her up and placed her under the covers. "Na-night, love." He whispered, gently, kissing her on her forehead and turning off the light, before closing the door of his bedroom behind him. He stepped into the sitting room of his suite, hands on hips, glaring at Pete who sat watching cartoons on the sofa. "Prick." He spat as he walked towards him and sat down.

Pete turned and grinned at him. "Yup! But I'm not the one who wants to go running off to Miss Summers, am I?"

"What? I do _not_ want to go 'running off' to Buffy!" He exclaimed, indignantly.

"Yeah, sure, whatever…that's why you're so pissed at having to spend an evening with me instead of, well, not." Pete flicked through the channels as the cartoon finished.

"Anyone would prefer to spend time without you then with you, Pete. That's just common sense! Hey!" He shouted as he received a whack around the back of his head. Another followed, and another, until he said; "Ok, ok! I'm sorry. Fuck, man, that hurt!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not kissing it better." Pete growled, before settling on South Park.

"Why are you pissed?" Spike asked, frowning at him.

"They've cancelled 'Hey Arnold'." He answered, irritably, watching his friend's face for any reaction.

"I'm so sorry, man. That's a hard blow." He nodded, sympathetically. "Must admit, I never saw it coming." The corners of his mouth began to curl as he tried to force them down.

Pete watched him for a moment before turning off the TV and giving him his full attention. "So, what's up with you and Buffy?" Spike immediately sobered at the name. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"H—how, d'you mean?" He cleared his throat and sat up.

"You said that she made your life a living-hell, then you shag her, then you like her, now what?"

"What do you mean, now what?"

"Well," Pete replied, breathing loudly as his frustration rose, "why did you hate her in the first place? She just sounds like a snob. All high-school kids are."

Spike tilted his head back. "Because…" he trailed off, sighing. "Because, she was law and order, and I was anarchy at its best. We were destined to hate each other--"

"And shag? No, no. Don't get me wrong, two people who hate each other are destined to shag." He analysed, cheekily, putting his hands up in front of him and nodding. "I know exactly what you mean. Take me and the guy in the deli across the street. We've been enemies for a while now, ever since I tried his bloody rye bread, but I know that one day, he will love me the way I love him!" He ended dramatically by clasping a hand over his heart and wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

"Bloody hell, mate, I never knew!" Spike added, with mock care.

Pete glared at him before continuing. "Marie says you practically saved her life once."

"Whose? Buffy's? If you're talking about that time this bloody nerdy fucker she was partnered with in something tried it on with her, I'd hardly call it saving her life. After all, it was mainly because that little twat was a slimy bugger who thought it would be good for a laugh to see if he could be the one to finally get me expelled." Pete raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"That wasn't the time I head about."

Spike's eyes shot up.

FLASHBACK

Spike sat in front of the school councillor, arms folded, slouched back into the chair, his eyes boring into her. Miss Brown sat opposite, behind the safety of her desk, her eyes scanning one of the seven folders devoted to the Times of William Johnson!

"Well," she said, looking up at him, as austerely as she could, "this is the second time this week, Mr Johnson."

"What of it?" Spike replied, darkly, a bored expression fixed across his face.

"It's only Tuesday. Tell me, why do you think you keep finding your way to my office?" She asked, arching her fingers against each other.

"You can hardly get lost in a school this size, Miss." He grinned, falsely. "So, why don't we get to the point of why I'm really here, hmm?"

She furrowed her brow. "You are here because Craig Dawkins said that you beat him up, Mr Johnson."

"Craig Dawkins is a twat." Spike growled, angrily. He sat up, more alert about what was going on.

"Did you hurt him?"

"Not as much as I bloody well will!" His hands formed fists at his sides, his eyes fixed on hurting one Craig Dawkins.

"William!" The young woman snapped. "This school doesn't abide bullying!"

"Oh yeah? Then why the fuck am I here?" He looked into her eyes, his seemingly pained beneath the surface. His voice calmed, along with her expression. "That git has it in for me, Miss Brown, honest. He abuses his power as a—um, look, I don't know what the fuck he is, but I haven't touched him."

Her face turned to pity as the hardened student in front of her seemed so much clearer. "Do you want me to bring this up?" She asked, softly.

Spike realised what was going to happen; he was going to fight this arse on his own ground.

"No, please Miss, I don't want any trouble!" He begged, still the sad expression on his face.

"William, don't worry." She said, tilting her head. "I wont mention your name, but you can't let him get away with it. This school doesn't abide bullying of any kind. Now, why don't you get back to your lesson?"

He held her eyes, softly for a while, before nodding and smiling. "Thank you." He stood and left her room, a grin appearing across his face. That little twat was going to get it; to many times had he ratted on him, too many times had he made up shit to get him in front of Miss Brown. It was only fair; fighting by the rules, Dawkin's rules.

Spike turned out of the grey school building and headed across the fields to the bike shed for a smoke with anyone worth smoking with round there. He took a deep breath as he smoothed back his hair and lifted a cigarette out of a pack in his pocket. He flipped open a silver lighter, and ignited the end with the flame that sprung out.

Reaching the wall, he leant against the bricks, solitarily, and breathed in the small freedom.

A noise from the trees that cloaked the bike shed from the rest of the school made his neck shoot up.

"Boris? Boris, is that you?" He called in his deep voice into the darkness of the trees. "Boris, you dirty bugger, are you in there?" He headed towards the trees and allowed himself to be enveloped by the leaves.

He waded a little way further, before stopping abruptly, another noise to the left of him forcing him into stilling. He flicked his cigarette onto the floor and stamped it out.

"Where did you say you found the specimen?" A nervous voice carried to him.

"Summers." He laughed, quietly to himself. "Not scared of the dark, are we?" He smiled, and began to head back out of the woods.

"What? No!" Her voice was suddenly panicked. Spike stopped and paused for a moment to see what he could hear. There was scuffling. "No! No!" Her voice was shrieking, louder and louder.

"Shit!" He cursed, following the voice as quick as he could, back into the darkness, with only speckled beams of light to help him.

"Get off me!" She shouted as Spike emerged into the clearing. He looked down, startled to see Buffy pressed against the floor, that git, Craig Dawkins on top of her, pinning her down against the leaves. Her knee-length skirt was riding high around her thighs, her shirt half tugged off her shoulder. Fuck thinking!

Spike reached down and pulled him off her, pushing him against a tree, causing his glasses to break and fall to the ground. Craig turned, just inside to see Spike's fist come into contact with his face with force. He fell back, clutching his hands to his cheek, crouching back in fear.

Fuck the rules; that wanker had it coming!

"You're even lower then I thought you were." Spike spat as Craig turned and half-ran, half-crawled out, back to the school. "Wanker."

He turned to face Buffy, who lay trembling on the ground. Spike helped her up and dusted some of the leaves that had stuck to her back. She lowered her skirt as he took a step back and turned, letting her gather herself together.

"Thank you." She said, shakily from behind him. He turned, but wouldn't meet her eyes. He nodded once and took a long breath before realising who he was and who she was.

"Listen, next time anyone tries anything like that, knee to the balls. Stops 'em dead in their tracks. Bloody painful stuff." Suddenly she forgot her fear, she felt safe and smiled. "I'm not kidding, I've had to do it to many a randy sod who's tried to have a go with me. All men are bastards." He didn't seem like one to her. This was the third time he was there when she needed help; first that time at night, then with the professor, and now this.

His eyes reached hers, cautiously. As they met, time slowed for a moment and they were both content to simply stand and smile.

Spike cleared his throat and turned his head away, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "What were you doing out here? I didn't have you pegged as a bike-shed-gal."

She shook her head, reality streaming back to her. "Craig said that he thought he'd seen a living specimen of the fungus lothargicus, sleeping mushroom, and wanted to show it to me." Her voice was steadying.

Spike leaned towards her, humour relieving the situation of its severity. "Well, the next time some bollock-brain offers to show you his specimen, just say no, alright?" She giggled lightly, as he led her out of the bracken.

"Thank you, William." She said, softly, as they emerged at one end of the field, the school at the other.

"Later, Summers." He grinned, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. "See you in school." He was mentally hardening; the prospect of the grey prison in front of him reminded him further of whom he was.

"That is if you turn up." She said, sarcastically. She turned to him, the know-it-all, again. Inside, he was proud that she hadn't been scarred by Craig's fumbling, but didn't show it. He turned to glare at her. "You should attend more lessons, it's for your own good. And you shouldn't smoke. It's bad for you."

"Yeah, whatever." He growled, turning back to head to the bike-shed. She smiled as he left, and walked back to her comfortable life at school."

"No, shit!" Marie exclaimed in disbelief as Pete told her. They were in a bubble bath, surrounded by candles; something generally too romantic for either of them, but not in this case. "Buffy never told me about that."

"Yeah, well, I only found out today. And, guess what."

"What?"

"Spike pretty much quit smoking after that." He grinned, leaning forwards and kissing Marie gently on her lips.

"What? Because of Buffy?" Marie leaned forwards to help him in his endeavour.

"He says no. But he's an idiot."

"Tell me about it," she whined, running her hands up her legs, "try getting a straight answer out of either of them! You know, I asked Buffy how exactly she thought he had made her high-school a living hell, and she just went on about him being the rebel anarchist."

Pete backed away and looked at her, nodding. "I know! I asked Spike, and he said that she wrecked his time because she was Prissy in Pink!" Marie smiled.

"Some people just keep skirting around the issue that is straight in front of them!" She gossiped. He nodded.

_Then what are we doing?_ Pete thought, smiling at her in the dim light.

_Just like us_. She purred back.

::

I LOVE feedback, so please...Read 'n' Review!


	7. Seven

**Just One Little Kiss**

:: CHAPTER SEVEN ::

"Morning Marie." Buffy grinned, sleepily, as she sat up to find Marie with a breakfast tray sitting at the end of her bed. Marie showed a saccharine smile and nodded back, waiting for a reaction. "What's wrong?"

"No, nothing--" Marie lifted her lips in a smile, "hey listen, who's Craig Dawkins?" Buffy's smile dropped.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked in disbelief.

"Craig Dawkins, who is he? And why haven't you told me about him?" Her voice and face became whiney as she slumped forwards. "I'm supposed to be your friend and you never told me about Craig or Spike! That's not fair. I tell you _everything_!"

"Yes, well, I think it's good to keep some things to ourselves."

"How long have you fancied Spike?" Marie furrowed her brow, waiting for the response. She crossed her arms and assumed a serious expression on her face.

"I don't _fancy_ Spike! Of all people, not him. Just because he's been there in the past to bail me out and…" She trailed off and fixed her gaze on the taupe wall. "Anyway, it was just sex, and it was just once…well, not _just_ once, but--" But Marie had lost interest in the conversation.

"Why do they paint everything taupe? It's a really naff colour, reminds me of humus, and…"

"Spiiiiiiiiiike!" Pete called into Spike's ear, waking him up. Spike jumped up, looking around frantically until he saw him.

"Fuck man, why the bloody hell did you do that?" He clasped a hand to his head. He had fallen asleep at his desk and his clothes were rumpled. There was a post-it on one cheek. He pulled it off.

"We need to go upstairs and continue shooting. You're late, Spike." He skimmed the top of Spike's head with his hand. Spike pulled away and stood up, blinking, trying to clear his mind and find his shoes. "So, you didn't have sex with her last night? Aw, too bad." Spike glared at him before pulling one shoe on. "Still, it's not like I should pry…" He growled.

"What? What is it, Pete?" He finished getting dressed and ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times.

"Why didn't you tell me about the bar? Buffy tells Marie _everything_ and you tell me NOTHING!" He ended up shouting.

Spike frowned at him. "Calm down, mate. I tell you stuff." He put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What are you talking about? The bar?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" He said, threateningly.

"I _don't know_," Spike answered, irritably, "why don't you tell me?"

"Alright then. Let me refresh your memory. You two had sex in a bar! Did that slip your mind?"

Spike eyed him confused. "No we didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No – _we didn't_. I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that."

Pete laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, right. You _didn't_. You _were just friends_. And not even that. You people make me sick!"

"I'm telling you, Pete. We didn't have sex in a bar." He scratched his head and moved to the door, now fully dressed. "Something's wrong with you. Really." He shook his head.

"No, it's not, coz Marie said that you and--" something dawned across his face, "that Buffy had a dream about you having sex in a bar!" He slumped and tilted his head looking up. "Of course!" He turned to Spike and smiled. "Ah, well. These things happen!"

He joined him at the door. "Buffy had a dream about me and her? Really? A hot dream?" Pete looked at him. "Buffy had a really hot dream about me and her?" Pete whacked him on the back of his head.

"I wasn't meant to say. Marie'll kill me if she finds out. Shut up, Johnson." He warned, hitting him again to add impact. "Upstairs, now!"

Buffy sat on the sofa with Leah crawling all over her when Spike walked in. He grinned and walked over to join her.

"Hey," he said, sitting down. Her relaxed facial expressions tensed.

"Hello, William." She looked straight ahead.

He had been grinning all the way down in the lift. His grin spread wider when he looked across at her. She was wearing a button-up pale sundress that split open where she crossed her legs.

"Spikey!" Shouted Leah, pouncing off Buffy and onto him. He picked her up and began to tickle her until she squealed and ran away from him, leaving the two of them on their own.

"Sleep well?" He asked her, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

"Um, yes, thank you. Quite well."

"Good dream?"

"What?!" She flipped to see his reaction, her eyes having bulged and her mouth having fallen open.

"Very good dream." He responded with a smirk.

She cleared her throat at his gaze and brushed her hair behind her ears, returning to her original position. "I-um. It was alright." _He didn't know anything_.

"Did it heat you up?" He asked, enjoying the reaction on her face to his words. "From what I hear it did."

"L-Look," she said, putting her foot down once and for all, "I have never been to Africa on safari, and I don't intend to go, so whatever may have happened in my dream will _never_ happen in real life."

Her words didn't have the right effect. "I only heard about the bar. Safari? Must have been a wild time!" He grinned and sat closer to her, placing a hand behind her. "Tell me about it." He purred into her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut as he traced his fingers along the back of her neck.

"I-I, um…" She whispered huskily.

"Yes?" He leaned forwards

"We shouldn't do this…" Her voice was weak and breathy.

"Tell me why not."

"B-Because we work together."

"That's only temporary." He leaned in a nuzzled at her neck, breathing in the scent around her hair. "Why else?"

"B-Because I don't know you that well."

He chuckled softly into her ear before running his tongue over the rim. "All of school. Yeah, not well at all. Maybe I want to get to know you better. Why else?"

"B-Because you think I'm funny."

"That's a good thing." He grinned, his hot breath sizzling her skin. "Anything else?"

"B-Because we don't like each other."

He pulled back a little and looked at her eyes. "I like you. Your body seems to like me." He added, his hand still resting on her quivering thigh. "Where's the problem?"

She opened her eyes, sleepily, and looked at him. She couldn't bring herself to look anywhere else. There was something compulsive in his gaze; an assurance that was revealed to be something else, now, that needed affirming.

"I--" she stuttered, her heart racing.

And then he knew.

He leant forwards, touching her lips with a new kind of passion. It was evident from the start. And, as he pressed deeper, she met him with equal emotion. His hands moved to cup her face to his, and hers brought him closer still.

She whimpered slightly, and he let out a low growl that curled in his throat. It was soft, but sensuous, as they remained connected, completely oblivious of what was going on around them.

"Let me take you for dinner." He breathed, breaking for air. His eyes watched hers as they flashed open. She didn't seem ashamed or afraid of what was happening.

"Yes." She choked back, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. 


	8. Eight

**Just One Little Kiss**

:: CHAPTER EIGHT ::

"Unh!" Buffy moaned as Spike drove into her. She looked down at him and lifted herself up, forcing herself to keep riding through the pleasure.

"God, yes!" The low, guttural sound of his voice made her knees weak. She leaned forwards across him and let her hair tumble onto his chest.

He led his hands along her creamy thighs and firmly grasped her hips, his powerful arms helping her in the movement.

"Unh…unh…unh!" She cried each time she landed and sheathed him to the hilt. "Spike!"

"Fuck, Buffy!" He shouted back. He held onto her hips and secured himself full inside her as she tensed and contracted all around him. Then he was hit dead-on, knocking him back.

They stayed still for a while, their breaths filling the air. They hadn't even made it to the restaurant. They were now stuck off the track near some forest in the back seat of his car.

Spike lifted up his wrist for a moment before letting it drop heavily to the ground. "I think we've lost our table." He said, still breathing heavily. He felt her shake with laughter and she forced herself up to look at him. She leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips before resting her head back onto his chest.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, her breath slowly returning to normal.

"Depends what for." He said with a slight smirk in his voice.

"I was talking about food." She slapped him playfully.

"So was I," he said in mock astonishment. "And, frankly I resent the implication that I was meaning anything other than food. I can't even think what else I might me hungry for." He grinned, pleased with himself as she slid off him and to one side. He put his arm around her and used the other to wipe the steam that had misted the windows.

She brushed away the hair from her face and lay with him for a while, her bare leg still wrapped around his, the dampness from them both pressed full against him. There was no embarrassment.

"Look at the stars." She whispered in the silence. "I used to look at them every night back in High School and make a wish on each one I saw."

"What did you wish?"

Her face fell serious. "I wished that I could find a knight that would carry me away from my wicked parents." She swallowed a lump in her throat. There was a long silence where he held her closer. "Everybody made wishes back then." He nodded and sighed. "What did you wish for?" She tilted her head up to look at him.

"I wished…" he said slowly, diplomatically, "that I'd meet someone who'd let me do this." He sat up and removed his tie, the one piece of clothing left on him, and then her bra, the one piece of clothing left on her. She grinned at him as he let his eyes tumble over her. "Ready?" He asked, grinning back.

"Ready." She replied with a giggle. "Cancel your plans for the next few days."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to make you come more times then you ever thought possible."

"Tch-yeah, right!" She narrowed her eyes, mischievously.

"What? You don't think I have it in me?"

She wiggled her head from side to side, as if debating an answer. "Well, you're good…" she said, making him grin, "…but not great."

He clasped a hand over his heart and fell back against the glass of the window. "Ooh, now that hurt!"

She kneeled up and moved over to him. "To be great, you need me." She winked, before pressing him against the glass fully. He smiled against her mouth. "Wanna be great? Or wanna be good?" She asked, cheekily.

He shook his head. "Wanna be bad."

He pushed her back against the now even damper leather interior and ran his hands over her glistening breasts. She squealed and tried to get away as he nipped at her skin with his teeth whilst tickling her sides with his fingers. He held her steady with his hands and brought his mouth up to hers.

She squirmed and laughed as he continued to tickle her.

"Stop!" She cried through fits of giggles. "Stop…argh!"

"Who's great?" He asked against her hair, laughing himself.

"I am!" She said, triumphantly as she slid her hand up his thigh and held him. "Hmmn? Any objections?" She asked as she slowly began to pump; up…and down. Up and down.

"No – whoa, no! No objections!" He let out a long breath and smiled at her. "I never thought that you, of all people…" He trailed off and shook his head. She stopped her motion.

"What?" She asked, angrily.

He blinked, confused, and tried to remember what he'd done. "What?"

She looked at him in disgust and shook her head. "I knew that in the end it would come down to this!" She scowled and backed away from him, picking up the red dress she had been wearing before.

"What's wrong? What have I said?" She was ignoring him. "Buffy!" He growled, pulling on her arm so that she'd listen.

"What?" She snapped back. "What more do you want from me?"

"What do you mean what more do _I_ want from _you_? Like it was me who made the first bloody move!"

"_You_ came to _my _hotel room, remember?" She nipped, still angry.

"Well, _you_ were making _Come Fuck Me_ eyes since we started filming!"

"What?!" She spat in disbelief. "_You've_ made out like everything I've said was to do with sex, and-and you!"

"Most of it _was_ to do with sex!"

She scoffed loudly. "Yeah, right! I've never found you remotely appealing!"

"That why you're naked in my car after having, oh, what was it you called it," he said, placing his forefinger to his mouth in mock-though, "the best bloody shag of your life?"

"What happened was a mistake!"

"All seven times?" He laughed in disbelief. "Why don't you just say it, Buffy? You think I'm beneath you!"

"Beneath me?" She scoffed. "You're the one who thought you ruled everything back in High School with your stupid leather thing and lit cigarette!"

"So, this _does_ go back to High School."

"Apparently so."

"Well, then there's a whole difference in our memories because I had nothing but the greatest respect for you!" _God!_ He sounded like an ass.

"You knocked-out a teacher!" She angered.

"And I'd fucking-well do it again, Buffy!" He spat.

It felt weird to both of them, arguing. The stuff that was coming out! They were baring their thoughts, and their bodies, and their souls.

"I've not done anything wrong, here, Buffy." He said, his voice calmer.

"Well, what have I done that was so heinous?" Her throat was turning hoarse, there was a slight rattle when she talked and her words were beginning to fizzle out. He felt guilty for upsetting her.

"Nothing!" He growled. "I don't see where there's a problem." They sat in silence for a moment before Spike spoke. "I can't believe how stubborn you are!"

"You're the stubborn one."

"Stubborn?!" He tossed his hands up into the air. "Need I remind you that we're sat naked in my car? I wouldn't call that stubborn." Buffy pulled the fabric of her dress higher. "Look," he said, suddenly ashamed, "can we just be friends?" He didn't know what he'd done, but if he'd done something, he was sorry for it.

"Just friends?" She asked, cocking her head to one side.

"Sure." He said, nodding, but looking at the floor between them.

"Don't be so defeatist, Spike!" She rolled her eyes and leant forwards. "But, I guess we could still be friends…I don't know." He grinned at her. "Friends who Fuck?" She suggested, hopefully. She held out her hand and watched as he shook it, readily.

"Friends who Fuck."


	9. Nine

**Just One Little Kiss**

:: CHAPTER NINE ::

"Marie, have you seen Spike?" Buffy asked as she came down for makeup that morning.

"Nope, thought he was with you." She replied, keeping her eyes firmly on Pete's at the other end of the room.

"We were meant to meet last night by the deli across the street. He didn't show."

"Maybe he's had enough of you." She suggested, before sidestepping her friend and moving towards her target. "Hey, Pete." She grinned, toying with the end of her pen in her mouth.

"Miss." He nodded, tipping his imaginary hat and adding a thick Texan drawl. "My," he said in mock astonishment, "what are you doin' to that poor pen?"

"Pete, where's Spike?" Buffy asked, sidestepping the play in front of her.

"Aint he with you, l'il lady?" Pete turned and smiled to her before focussing his affections back to Marie, who was acting coy as best she could.

"No," she angered, "we were meant to meet last night but he didn't show up."

Marie stepped forwards and slid a leg in between Pete's, pressing herself full against him.

"Sorry, Buff, no idea w-here he is. Now, tell me," he grinned down at Marie, "w-hat, pray tell, is a girl like you doin' so far from home?"

Buffy picked up the phone. She was going to ring him. She had to ring him. She had to explain to him why she'd said what she'd said.

"What? Now?" She heart his voice on the answering-machine message. "Oh – right, got it. Cheers. Yeah, this is William Johnson. If you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Cheers." "Now press the--"

Buffy cleared her throat. "Hi, um, Spike. It's Buffy. A-Are you alright? We haven't heard from you in a few days and Patrick's starting to wig out. I-I know this sounds stupid, but we rang the police. They reckon you've just skipped town." She let out a nervous laugh. "Is everything alright? We're worried, Spike. I'm worried."

The answer phone timed out.

Spike lay sprawled across the bedclothes in a darkened room. His hand was clutching his neck and he was shivering on the red satin. He tried to lift himself up, but his eyes were hazy and tired, and it was a struggle to breath.

"Is this him?" Said a distant, female voice. "I thought you said he was strong."

"He is strong," replied another, a man, "he took out two of my guys. He's just a human."

Spike strained to look up at the figure as it made its way to the bed. As it got closer he saw the smoky eyes and black hair. She seemed to be debating what she'd do with him.

She sat down next to him on the bed and reached out a long, thin hand towards his neck. Spike flinched away.

"W-What's happening?" He choked, his voice deep and worn.

"Oh, kitten!" Breathed the woman, smiling happily. "Don't you know where you are? Aww, poor thing." She leant forwards and brushed her hand over his chest through the ripped, blood-soaked shirt. He shivered under her touch.

"W-Where's Buffy?"

"What's a buffy?" the man asked, stepping forwards into view. There was a flickering light just behind his head, shadowing his face.

"W-What have you done with Buffy?" Spike growled, spurred on by anger and a new consciousness. He pushed himself up, one hand still covering the wound on his neck.

"Sweet!" The woman squealed. "He's in love!"

"In love?" Asked the man. He scoffed. The woman's face fell sullen.

"Yes," she said, nodding, "I think I'll turn him." Spike blinked and tried to look at her. His head was spinning wildly. He couldn't make her out anymore. She was fuzzing, turning into a black mass.

"But if he is in love won't he be weak?"

"I _could_ drain him." She tilted her head to one side and leaned towards him. Spike flinched away and fell back, limp, but determined to be free. She lowered her head to his neck and pulled away his hand. The licked the blood from on the fingers. "Mmmn! He tastes good." She giggled. Spike frowned and tried to pull away, but he was too weak. "I want to keep him."

"Wakey-wakey!" A voice sounded in his ear, hot breath shivering his throat. A finger began to run its way from the top of his forehead, down his nose, across his throat, down his chest… His hand moved and grabbed it, stilling it.

Spike opened his eyes. He felt like he was using them for the first time. He looked around above him. He could see the canopy of the bed, the flashing of fires, the blood red of silk. He turned to his left where a woman lay on her side, watching him. She giggled.

He sat up and rose from the bed. Each step he took seemed to be so easy, so light, so fast. The flames of torches that hung on the walls seemed to take an age to pass from side to side, their fires almost frozen. Statues seemed to move, shadows seemed to disappear.

"What's going on?" He said, his voice still deep but almost haunting now. "Where am I?" He turned to see his capture now sat up in the bed amidst a flurry of black hair and satin sheets. "Who are you?"

She smiled. "You are so new!" She squealed, excitedly. She jumped up and moved over to him. "You're a vampire, darling!"

Spike looked down at his ripped shirt and bloodstained clothes. His hand moved mechanically to his neck. Then he remembered it all.

"B-Buffy?" He asked.

The woman seemed downcast; she had chosen ill. "There is no Buffy."

"Buffy." He growled more urgently. He felt changes in his face as his anger grew. "Buffy! Where is she?" The woman smiled and opened her mouth in awe at his transformation. "Where?" He growled again.

There was an animal in him now. It spurred him to move and say things. He reached out and grabbed her neck. Pinning her against the wall. She laughed and clapped.

"Good boy!" She grinned.

"Buffy!" He shouted, again, slamming her back against the wall.

"Bad boy." She frowned. "Naughty boy!" She scolded, seemingly unaffected by his blows.

Spike looked at his hand, suddenly. Realisation dawned on him. He dropped the woman and stared at his arms in revulsion. He turned and looked towards the shadowed passage leading away from the room.

"You can't go," she said, impatiently, "I _made_ you! You're mine!"

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